


Everything Changes But You

by beeswaxing



Series: Trophy Wife [14]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:25:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: Changmin is a creature of habit, no matter what he tells himself. He projects it onto his husband, reflecting his own distinct lack of love for change on the older man. But some changes are inevitable, and it is up to Yunho to prove to his brat that despite all the changes, nothing has really changed ;-)





	Everything Changes But You

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of timeline, this follows on from Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word so if you haven't read that, you may want to do so before reading this so a) you can follow some brief mentions of what happened in that oneshot and b) so you don't get the shock of your life in the second half of this fic... ISTG Changmin would kill me. He totally would.

 

 

Changmin leans against the doorway to the master bathroom, watching as Yunho uses an old fashioned barber’s brush to lather his face with shaving cream. His husband has much thicker facial hair growth than most Asian men, and he has found it much better to shave in the traditional way.

He is transported back to their honeymoon as Yunho pulls open the cut-throat razor, watching as Yunho examines the blade, before he places it gently on the counter and bends over the sink to wash his face clean. Once done, he does not bother drying his face, pulling out the length of leather hanging from a hook on his side of the double vanity and start to strop the blade. The sound is familiar, and the memories slowly hit him, as he stands there in nothing but a short robe. He has had his shower, exiting the bathroom quickly once done because while he is once again back together with his husband in their penthouse apartment, Changmin is still a little skittish.

It has been less than a week since returning from Iwami, and while they sleep in the same bed, Yunho has not tried to have sex with him again since their time during the storm in the little seaside cottage. He has a feeling it might be because of the babies, but he cannot be sure. Changmin has already seen Dr. Eri ahead of the scheduled appointment on Monday, visiting her the previous afternoon instead as one of her patients cancelled. He had kept this from Yunho though, because the man is still as busy as always, and even though it is Friday, he knows his husband has a long day ahead. He remembers the promise Yunho gave him last night though, as he is about to doze off, that the weekend will be his to do as he wants. Changmin had decided to tell him about his appointment then, fully ready to face the older man’s disappointment at not being able to go with him.

But then life’s full of little disappointments isn’t it?

What is important is that the girls are healthy and everything is progressing as normal despite Changmin’s little disappearing stunt. Dr. Eri had assured him that the emotional rollercoaster he seems to be suffering from is normal, even if he does not like it. Her suggestion that he try not to fight it, and just roll with it will probably make his life a little easier. Protesting just causes more emotions to pull him under and drown him.

Feeling put upon as usual, and especially because he seems to have lost the ability to walk in a fucking straight line, the teenager had been a little rude to his doctor, prompting the petite woman to laugh, ignoring his rudeness while pulling out an album from her drawer. In it were photos of her family. Twin girls and a boy. The rest of the appointment had been spent with them laughing over the stories she had for him during her own two pregnancies. The twins are three and the boy is six and almost a career ender for her because of the timing. The way she describes her emotional ranting to her poor husband makes Changmin feel a little vindicated. She had valid concerns about her career while carrying her son though, while Changmin really has nothing to worry about, which makes him feel like his own outbursts are a little silly in comparison.

Dr. Eri had been quick to stop those thoughts from progressing further, reassuring him that they are normal and everyone is different. He is carrying his husband’s children and as such, is allowed to act up every now and again. Her suggestion that he try and keep to a certain schedule each day so he does not get thrown off balance when he forgets something definitely has merit, and even after less than twenty four hours, his writing out of a daily schedule and pinning it to the noticeboard in the library is making him feel more relaxed than he has been in awhile.

Though he does regret not asking her about his instability. He knows why it is happening and wonders if she will have anything useful to tell him about it. Feeling like a drunken sailor on dry land is not something Changmin is looking forward to over the remaining months.

The sound of Yunho’s stropping of the blade ceases, and a comfortable silence descends. It is very early in the morning, just after dawn in fact, and it is still relatively dark outside.

Changmin twists his body slightly to look out the window, noting the heavy clouds.

It may stay dark for awhile despite the sunrise then.

Just like during the majority of their honeymoon.

He should have taken it as a sign, the thunderstorm raging outside, imagining the gods butting heads as they battled in their bedroom. The only lull in the storm in their room had been when Yunho had taught him how to shave him.

Using a cut-throat blade.

Changmin folds his arms across his chest, resting lightly on his slightly swelling belly that is hidden rather well under the short bathrobe. He can feel his body tightening and reacting to the memory as he watches Yunho use the barber’s brush to spread specially ordered shaving cream on his face. His husband takes his grooming seriously, even if this is the only real indulgence he allows himself.

There is something intensely masculine about the practice, Changmin having never experienced it himself because he has never needed to shave.

The blessing of being a male capable of bearing children.

And he has never ever felt the loss except when Yunho shaves. The idea of feeling that blade stroking so close to his skin, a blade so sharp that one wrong move can open up the skin like a hot knife through butter, is exhilarating. It takes a good amount of skill and a steady hand to be able use a straight blade like the one Yunho is holding against his cheek right now, and as Changmin watches, he catches Yunho’s eye in the mirror.

Precision is also needed, the angle has to be just so, and Yunho has done it often enough that he operates on muscle memory, the blade making short quick strokes down his cheek, eyes never leaving Changmin’s.

On the flipside to all that masculinity, Changmin also remembers one strange requirement for a safe, close shave.

Gentleness.

You need to be gentle, balancing the blade carefully, and applying almost no pressure at all, letting the sharpness of the blade do its job rather than forcing it.

He had sliced Yunho right open that first time, and his husband still bears a faint scar from it across his adam’s apple. But the older man had merely laughed away his teenage mortification, and they had tried again.

The patience the older man had for his willful teenage wife is something Changmin is only now beginning to truly appreciate.

Not to mention the trust.

Changmin cannot recall the last time he shaved Yunho, and he wonders why that is.

The scraping sound of blade against roughened cheek echoing in the bathroom finally stops, and Yunho leans forward to rinse his blade. Changmin can still see his husband in the mirror, clad only in a towel slung low on his hips, the man’s neck is still covered in shaving cream.

But he is content to stare, enjoying the view as he hugs himself.

Yunho has been watching his wife for awhile now. The better part of a week in fact. He wonders if Changmin notices, but he has a feeling he has not. The teenager gets annoyed easily and Yunho tries to stay out of his way. His wife is unaccustomed to being clumsy, and the last few days have been particularly trying for him as far as Yunho can see. The former supermodel, barely able to walk a straight line without somehow losing his balance. The change is frustrating him and Yunho does try to minimise it as far as he can.

Changmin snapping at him for hopping up to get a glass of water the other night so as to prevent the teenager from wobbling to the kitchen makes Yunho’s mouth quirk in amusement. The boy is almost painfully independent, Yunho occasionally wondering if he is even needed in this relationship. The recent changes has softened the prickly teen somewhat but not completely.

The loss of his centre of gravity is quite obvious, but Yunho has a feeling Changmin has not quite grown accustomed to this fact. His little huffs of annoyance every time it happens, not to mention the way he ruffles his hair and mussing it up, brings a fond smile to the older man’s face. The indomitable and aloof international supermodel has in the last week, turned into a pouty sulky teenager, uncomfortable in his own body.

Yunho, a little worried about it, had called Dr Eri the previous evening asking about it, and she assures him that it is normal. Changmin more than most would feel hyper aware of the changes because of his height and previous vocation. Though really, she says a little self-disparagingly, it is so much better than being 5”3 and carrying twins. She had uncharacteristically shared an anecdote about herself feeling like a beached whale, and toppling forward from a gust of a wind at six months. Six months! Yunho cannot even begin to imagine what she was like at eight months, and he sends up a whisper of thanks that his wife is so tall. Dr. Eri does reckon though that Changmin should have a little more stability, though she laughingly likens him to a baby giraffe on ice.

In his opinion, his wife is more like a newborn fawn. Complete with woebegone Bambi eyes.

The phone call reveals a little more to Yunho though, when he realises the reason Dr Eri knows Changmin is like a baby giraffe on ice is because she saw him that afternoon. He had waited in vain for the teenager to tell him about the appointment, and when nothing is forthcoming even at bedtime, Yunho knows he has to do something.

He blames himself for Changmin’s reticence. While they may have made up at Iwami, he knows he still has a long way to go to regain his wife’s trust, which is why he promised the teenager the weekend. He has much to do, but business can wait. His wife cannot.

What was it that he promised? His wife always comes first? Yunho’s smirk is thankfully hidden in the shaving cream because he can see Changmin still watching him in the mirror, though they are no longer holding the other’s gaze. Dr Eri has unwittingly confirmed that his wife and baby girls are more than alright, and Yunho is itching to see if he can make his wife unravel for him.

He fervently hopes that at least that, has not changed.

Yunho rinses the his blade once again, done with his face. He meets Changmin’s eyes in the mirror and feels his heart speed up just a little as the teenager pushes away from the doorway.

His feet move, before he can stop them, and he finds himself standing next to Yunho as his husband straightens up, staring quizzically at him in the mirror, blade ready to finish the job down his neck.

Changmin says nothing, merely holding his hand out.

Yunho finally breaks eye contact as he looks down at the waiting hand, and then at the blade in his own hand, and then back at Changmin’s hand.

He folds the blade carefully, making sure it is safe between the protective scales before handing it over to his teenage wife.

However, said wife is momentarily distracted as he growls his displeasure at the sight that has just annoyed him.

“You are the head of an international corporation and yet, for some unknown reason, appear incapable of _fucking squeezing the toothpaste from the fucking bottom of the tube_.”

Yunho starts to laugh, but he gets an elbow in the gut for his efforts as Changmin picks up the offending tube of toothpaste and waves it in Yunho’s amused face.

“Do you want separate toothpaste tubes? We already have separate vanities. If you don’t learn to squeeze the damn toothpaste correctly, you can go find yourself another bloody bathroom.”

Oh lord, his beautiful naggy wife is back. But Changmin is not done as he starts to squeeze the toothpaste back the way he likes it, his mouth continuing seemingly without any effort or notice from him if the words are anything to go by. The whole rambling thing seems to come a little too naturally to the teenager, his husband notes ruefully.

“I spent a whole blissful month with my toothpaste squeezed from the bottom. From the bottom, Jung Yunho. Why is this so hard so help me god?” Changmin drops the offending tube of toothpaste neatly into the holder. But before he can turn, a sneaky hand slips under his robe, squeezing an ass cheek rather proprietarily. Changmin has to swallow his groan as his cock immediately reacts, as he is pressed against the vanity.

Yunho drops his chin onto his wife’s shoulder, staring at the gorgeous boy in the mirror. But Changmin refuses to meet his gaze, staring resolutely down at the offensive toothpaste no doubt.

“I like to squeeze _your_ bottom, Changmin-ah.”

He smirks as the teen growls low in his throat and pushes him away, muttering about lecherous old wolves.

Changmin grabs the straight blade from his husband’s hand, holding it carefully, feeling the weight, his heart pounding all of a sudden, vaguely aware of his erection as he turns to head to the day bed by the jacuzzi. This random piece of furniture that does not belong in a bathroom was placed there by him not too long before he ran away from home. He had seen it in a home decor magazine and both he and Jaejoong had agreed it is a rather convenient item of furniture to have in the bathroom. He mainly uses it to sit and chat with Yunho while the man is in the shower, or getting ready for work.

It has yet to be christened though, and Changmin stands by it, waiting for Yunho to appear.

The reason for the slight wait is apparent when Yunho returns with a small flannel, his bowl of shaving cream and a small bottle of oil which he places on the ornamental table between the covered jacuzzi and the day bed.

He sits down quickly, and Changmin immediately moves to sit astride him. The former supermodel is battling quite a few emotions throughout the whole process, and he wins one battle at least as he takes the proffered face towel that Yunho gives him, as he drops the blade onto the table.

The battle with his sudden shyness.

Why he is shy, he has no fucking idea. And instead of annoying him as it should do, it adds to his shyness. He wants his husband, but he is feeling completely out of sorts in his body that he is finding it hard to figure out how to initiate. And more so, he is unsure if Yunho even wants him in his current state, despite his rather indelicate palming of his ass barely a minute ago. That time apart has wrought more changes to his body than he is able to wrap his head around, and having literally grown with it, he knows the shock of his ungainly state is quite a bit for the older man to take in. His ass has not really changed, if at all, still able to get into his jeans though buttoning them is another story altogether. But the important thing is, his ass fits!

His husband is a man who does not like changes, and Changmin recalls somewhat fondly, the huge arguments early on in their marriage about Yunho’s tendency towards mess. Mess is mess, organised or not. If he can wrought change in the older man in that, surely this little change in his body is not such a big deal?

Maybe.

The towel is hot, and he uses it to wipe away the residue of the earlier shave, including Yunho’s still untouched jaw and neck area. Not much of his husband’s hair actually extends that far down, but he can see the stubble and the random bits of hair that missed the last shave and are thus, a little longer than the rest.

He rocks forward, adjusting himself, a ghost of a smile appearing when Yunho groans.

Changmin can feel Yunho’s hardness pressing against him, and he knows his own is rubbing against his.

Well that certainly answers one question for him at least. That weird shyness is dissipating, slowly but surely

He folds the face towel neatly, leaving it on the seat next to Yunho before leaning over on the side to grab the small bottle of oil.

“Not yet, Changdola…”

Changmin pauses, looking at Yunho and then back at the small bottle, his brow furrows slightly in confusion.

“Hot towel, shaving cream, blade, rinse, then you can apply the oil.”

“Oh.” Changmin colours slightly, eyes downcast as he drops the bottle into Yunho’s waiting hand. He wants so much to touch the other man though, and now he no longer has the excuse.

The bathroom is silent apart from the slightly heavier breathing of the man beneath him, and Changmin belatedly wonders if he has gotten too heavy for Yunho.

But he discards the thought almost immediately as he gives in to his desire. Yunho is his husband. He can touch him without needing a reason.

His palms sweep along that long strong neck and throat, seeing Yunho’s pulse throbbing heavily. In a mood to tease, he cups the underside of Yunho’s jaw, tilting his neck back and to the side, bending forward and blowing gently along the warm skin.

He can see Yunho swallowing hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he resists the urge to kiss it as he draws back. Changmin pastes his haughty supermodel face on as he leans back, quirking an eyebrow at his husband who is starting to look just a tad wild about the eyes.

The teenager pulls absentmindedly at his bathrobe, causing it to tug apart a little more, as he leans over to grab the bowl of shaving cream, lathering up Yunho’s chin and neck area slowly.

Each swirl of the soft bristles against his sensitive skin sends tiny electric shocks shooting through Yunho, and he knows he is a goner. He has been extremely patient, wanting to savour his gorgeous wife in his changed state, and the tiny doctor’s words come to mind from not too long ago.

_”If anything hurts, stop.”_

And therein lies the problem. Changmin gets obnoxious whenever he asks if anything hurts, because let’s face it, it is a rather dumb question.

_”Changmin, listen to your body, don’t ignore it.”_

His willful wife will never do anything to hurt their babies. He might get angry, rant and rail, and even throw things, but Yunho knows Changmin will never let anything happen to their children. The urge to be dictatorial has snuck up on him several times, especially when his wife is being an extra handful, the urge to point out their almost sixteen year age difference is almost overwhelming at times, because really, age accords him some sort of differential behaviour surely? He has lived longer and therefore he knows better? His wife should let him get his glass of water if he wants to at the very least without snapping like a sea turtle!

But Yunho is not an asshole. At least not on purpose.

His wife’s body is not his.

Changmin knows better than he does in this instance, and he trusts his wife.

As the teenager leans over to drop the bowl of shaving cream and pick up the cut-throat blade, Yunho catches a glimpse down his robe, past the pecs that have not yet diminished, to the slight curving swell of skin he can see.

His thoughts skip ahead, imagining the gorgeous teenager with his head thrown back, his tight body, skin still taut over his belly, and so very smooth…Yunho imagines running his hands over him. Teasing him.

And to be rewarded by the mouthy brat, so stunningly vocal and unashamed in the bedroom.

He is so hard he imagines he can practically poke through the egyptian cotton towel wrapped around his waist. His gaze stays within the deep V of Changmin’s practically open bathrobe as the teenager wiggles in his lap to presumably get into a more comfortable position though Yunho is starting to have his suspicions as to the brat’s motives. He can feel the gentle swell of his teenager’s body against his abdomen, as well as evidence of his arousal.

There is a charged silence between them as Yunho slips his hand underneath the hem of Changmin’s robe. The belt is losing its battle with all the additional movements and is slowly unraveling, exposing Changmin to his husband’s hot gaze.

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Changmin murmurs quietly, his warm breath fanning across Yunho’s skin, and the older man looks up to gaze into unfathomable, deep brown eyes.

Large bambi eyes staring at him, and Yunho is once again struck by the image of a newborn fawn. Changmin’s gaze is as unrelenting as it is shuttered, and Yunho imagines his wife can practically see deep into his soul, all his deepest and darkest secrets laid out, leaving him bare.

But the biggest secret of all is something Yunho is only keeping to himself, for now at least, as a form of self-preservation.

Though he has a feeling his intelligent wife already knows.

Lord knows the teenager knows him far better than he knows himself.

And yet he pushes him almost daily.

Yunho’s biggest secret is that he has no end point when it comes to Changmin.

The difficult former supermodel can push all he wants.

He will never reach the end.

Yunho is possessive as hell, he is at times quick to anger, and his judgment may fail him when he so blinded by what he perceives is the truth.

But there will never be an end point.

For there is no end for him.

There is only Changmin.

He feels it a little unfair that he is so open to the teenager and yet he is still grasping at straws half the time when it comes to the gorgeous boy. And he admits to himself that this is also his fault. He can see the changes in his wife over the past months, opening up slowly to him, and it is Yunho’s own stupidity that has caused the younger man to withdraw again.

It is he who has put that shuttered look in Changmin’s eyes. Can he change it back?

His hands flex against the curve of his wife’s ass, squeezing tight as they stare at each other, and Changmin shakes his head.

“You really should stop.”

“Why?”

Changmin makes a show of pulling the blade out, and twisting his wrist, the light catching the gleaming steel. He touches a corner of the blade against his mouth, rubbing it slowly back and forth and Yunho sucks in a sharp breath. It is the dull end of the blade, but it is still much too close to his wife’s smooth, clear skin for his comfort.

“I might cut you.”

“I trust you,” the words fall softly between them, Yunho’s eyes not leaving his wife’s delectable mouth. He can see those rosy red lips purse slightly, and he wills himself to calm down as Changmin drags the bottom of the blade along the length of his lower lip.

Changmin merely arches an eyebrow, not allowing his face to show exactly what those words mean to him.

He pulls the blade from his lip, using the other hand to tilt Yunho’s chin up.

“Don’t move.” His voice is a husky whisper as he uses his thumb to pull the skin taut, his hand steady as he strokes the blade carefully just under Yunho’s sharp jaw.

The scrape is very loud, the only other sound is their slightly heavy breathing. Once he is done, he leans over to wipe the blade clean across the face cloth from earlier, wiggling a little more than necessary in Yunho’s lap. He can feel and hear the older man’s breath catching in his throat, and he is a little amazed that he has not dropped the blade and mauled his husband yet.

Perhaps the fact that he is still covered in shaving cream is a deterrent.

But he knows that is not quite it. He needs to know that his husband has not changed.

Because Changmin hasn’t changed.

He still loves his husband, despite the asshole things he’s done.

And he is still the contrary teenager, hell bent on _not_ submitting to Yunho’s will.

He may give in every now and again, but he has not lost who he is.

At least he does not think so.

Yes, pregnancy has brought about changes beyond his control, but he is still the same Changmin.

Jung Changmin.

Jung Yunho’s _beloved_ trophy wife.

He moves to start on the stubble on his neck, his jawline now done, the blade poised when he feels Yunho spreading his legs underneath him, even as his grip on his ass tightens, pulling his cheeks apart, his fingers curling underneath the curve of his bottom, fingertips searching for his entrance.

This time it is Changmin whose breath catches, the blade stuttering dangerously close to Yunho’s exposed throat as his husband hauls him higher and closer.

The belt on his bathrobe finally loses the battle, untying completely, causing the material to part.

“Yunho…” There is a hint of warning in Changmin’s voice, as he struggles to regain control, but his husband pays him no mind.

The older man simply hums in response, fingertips grazing the puckered entrance as he grips his wife’s ass with one hand, and lifts him up, leaning back slightly.

“Might be easier if you’re a little higher.”

“H-higher?” Changmin is on his knees, Yunho’s fingers slipping between his thighs to finger his balls lightly from behind. His annoyance in the stutter of his words is evident on his face.

Yunho smirks up at his gorgeous wife who is wearing a beautiful frown.

“It might be easier for you to make the downward strokes…”

“But the strokes are upwards along your neck. I remember you telling me I have shave with the grain.”

And then he feels it. A slicked up finger slipping into his tight entrance, making his knees shake and his mouth pop open in surprise and unwilling pleasure.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be making downward strokes,” comes the amused reply, Yunho smirking up at his wife as the teenager grits his teeth, fighting the urge to do just that.

He clenches around the intruding finger, even as he brings the blade against Yunho’s cheek. He flips it to the blunt side, pressing it against the man’s smooth skin.

“I’m holding a blade, old man.”

“I trust you, Changdola,” the endearment a little out of place as the man pushes another oiled finger into the teenager’s protesting body. That little bottle of oil sure as hell was not meant for Yunho’s face.

“Damn it!” Changmin grits out, his hand trembling slightly but he steadies it quickly. If asked later, he will not be able to explain why he does what he does, but Changmin flips the blade over, the open blade against Yunho’s skin. “Don’t fucking move.”

Yunho can feel the difference, even if he already sensed it when Changmin switched the position of the blade. His eyes meet defiance burning bright despite being almost as black as night, his wife staring down at him.

And then Changmin sinks lower, spreading his thighs, his body swallowing Yunho’s two fingers to the knuckle.

Not a twitch is discernable on the teenager’s impassive face, and Yunho has to hand it to the boy, his wife is impressive in his stubbornness.

Oh holy hell does Changmin want to move. He wants to fuck himself on those beautiful slim fingers and then impale himself on Yunho’s thick cock that is just waiting beneath him, trapped under the heavy folds of the Egyptian cotton towel.

But he is going to finish what Yunho started. The man is still undeniably attractive as hell, but the shaving cream is honestly distracting the fastidious teen. The easy thing to do is to just wipe his face clean of course, but Changmin does not always like to do things the easy way. The hard way can also be rewarding.

He is married to Yunho, is he not?

Changmin clenches around Yunho’s fingers again, Yunho’s raised eyebrows bringing forth a smirk as he tilts the man’s head back to start on his neck.

He spreads his fingers, pulling the skin as taut as possible because this is where he fucked up rather spectacularly last time. Yunho’s scar is hidden underneath the layers of shaving cream, but Changmin knows it is there.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”

And with that bitten out warning, Changmin takes the blade to his husband’s skin. The scratching sound is more muted this time, the bristles softened under the length of time spent beneath the layer of moisturising cream. The hair is a little longer here, and the growth more sparse. Changmin makes quick work of the area. He is about to move to another bit of skin when his husband fucking moves.

The blade stutters and Changmin has to tilt his fingers awkwardly to save from stabbing his husband in the jugular, even as he struggles to draw in a breath.

And Yunho fucking does it again.

The unrepentant man curls his fingers, captured tightly within his wife’s body, to scratch at that spongey bit within him, eliciting a keening sound from the flabbergasted teenager in his lap.

Changmin tries to pull away, but Yunho has a tight grip of him. One hand with the blade and the other is free, Changmin punches his husband in the shoulder. But all he gets in response is a heavy scratch across his prostate and his thighs shake from the effort of holding himself firm. He clenches his ass, rolling his hips, feeling Yunho pumping his fingers. Since the punch gets him nowhere, he fists the hair at the back of his husband’s head, pulling hard, making the man grunt in pain.

But Changmin is deaf to his protests, his hand tightening in his hair as he tilts Yunho’s head painfully backwards.

Gone is the shy teenager. It was a short lived memory to be sure.

“I said, _don’t fucking move_. I am going to be very unhappy if I stab you by accident because you cannot follow simple instructions, old man.”

Yunho has the gall to smirk, enjoying every bit of the fact that his wife is back to being his Changmin. And the smirk only serves to aggravate the teen further.

Changmin grazes the blunt end of the blade along Yunho’s neck, sweeping it up to his earlobe and back down to his collar as he presses his mouth against Yunho’s parted lips.

“When I’m unhappy, you’re unhappy. And in all this unhappy, someone is _not_ getting fucked. So be a good husband and let your trophy wife finish his work so you can fuck him.”

Yunho’s tongue sneaks out, taking a lick, tasting his wife. He pulls it back in just in time as the willful young man gnashes his teeth at him. The teenager is more than a handful, and Yunho is more than content to spend the rest of his life _trying_ to tame the man.

Changmin leans back, letting go of Yunho’s hair and sitting back down. He rolls his hip, enjoying Yunho’s fingers pumping in and out of him, thumb grazing his sensitive balls. He rolls his hips some more, his cock trapped between the lower swell of his belly and Yunho’s hard abdomen. It is a strange sensation, one he did not really get back when they coupled in Iwami, and he finds that he likes it.

He likes it very much.

His eyes don’t leave Yunho’s as he rocks, and he is really thisfuckingclose to just saying fuck it, the heavy straight blade lying almost forgotten in his hand.

Yunho must have read his thoughts, though Changmin imagines his eyes are speaking volumes, because the man pulls his fingers out.

Changmin smothers his despairing moan in a cough, as he pushes his husband back, suddenly regaining his senses as he brings the cut-throat razor up once again. He forcibly tilts the uncooperative older man’s head, flexing his jaw as Yunho chooses to be difficult, refusing to turn.

Short of twisting the man’s neck, Changmin cannot do any more.

“Couldn’t you have waited till I finished?”

“I’ve waited a week. I can wait much longer if you need it. Do you need it?” And as he asks, his other hand moves forward to grip his the teenager’s heavy cock, full and turgid, pushing against Yunho’s abdomen.

“Fuck you.”

Yunho clicks his tongue, making a soft chiding sound, teasing as he pumps his wife’s cock. He leans back even more, a hand reaching up to rescue the blade from Changmin’s trembling fingers, securing it safely within its scales before dropping it beside them.

“I’m trying to, Changdola, but you’re being a rather big brat.”

Then he hauls his wife upwards, forcing Changmin to either plant his feet on the day bed, or face plant, before his mouth meets his cock.

Changmin groans as Yunho’s hot mouth swallows him down, his hips jerking against his will, trying to forgive Yunho for calling him a _big_ brat. Yunho has slid down so far his head is pressed against the low side of the day bed, in an awkward position, but Changmin does not care about that for the moment as he grips the same side of the day bed for leverage, pumping his hips into the welcome warmth of the man’s mouth.

Yunho fondles the teenager’s soft balls, moaning around the hard length between his lips. It has been far too long since he has tasted the younger man like this. Far too long since he has tasted the younger man in general. He sucks and laps, his technique sloppy because he wants to taste the precum pooling at the tip, Changmin’s cock slipping and sliding shallowly into the hollow of his cheek. His wife doesn’t appear to care though, looking stunning as he finds his balance, pushing away from his hold of the daybed his head thrown back and gently swelling body arched forward. The lines of his body that Yunho can see as the teenager finds a steadier rhythm, pumping into his mouth, makes him groan deep in the back of his throat, enveloping the head of Changmin’s cock in beautiful vibrations that pulls an answering whine from the former supermodel.

His husband’s ability to bring him so quick to the edge much too fast is either a skill, or simply a side-effect of Changmin’s over-sensitive body. While he is more inclined to attribute it to the latter, he knows his husbands knows his body like the back of his hand, able to play him like a fine instrument.

And play him he does as he pulls off his cock, Changmin’s eyes fluttering open at the sudden loss, his hand swooping down to grip the man around the throat loosely. And all he gets is a knowing smirk from the infuriating older man who pushes away his hand easily, manhandling him till Changmin suddenly finds himself draped over the head of the daybed.

“What the fuck?” He tries to turn but he gets a resounding smack to the ass instead.

“Yunho!”

He rears back, shaking his bathrobe loose, hearing a wicked chuckle from behind him when he gets another smack.

Changmin howls his anger, thoroughly annoyed now. He was so close to coming, but then Yunho stopped and now he is a mess of heightened frustration, his skin crawling with anticipation, but he knows he is not prepped enough for Yunho.

Even as he thinks it, he feels the larger body of his husband covering him. He can feel the man’s thick cock nestling against the cleft of his ass but Yunho makes no attempt to enter him. Changmin turns his head, his mouth immediately captured in a hot kiss. Oh he wants to bite his husband so badly, but he resists, pushing Yunho’s tongue back and then clamping his teeth down. Yunho’s chuckle is thoroughly amused when he meets the pearly white gates of his wife’s teeth, baring entry to his pliant mouth. He pulls back, cupping Changmin’s chin and turning him to face the mirror. He nuzzles a path along the teenager’s stiff jaw, licking the smooth skin before whispering in his ear.

“So beautiful Changmin-ah… See how beautiful you are to me.”

Changmin freezes, staring at himself in the mirror. He watches as Yunho runs his hands heavily over his shoulder blades slipping around his front, pinching his nipples hard, making Changmin gasp loudly, his muscles contracting spasmodically as the sensitive nubs are teased and fingered till they are hard and aching.

And he keeps staring at himself, the parted mouth, the high colour in his cheeks, and the dark dark eyes, full of lust and want.

Is this what Yunho sees when he fucks him?

Yunho’s nimble fingers play with his body, roaming, not stopping at any one spot long enough for Changmin to gain full enjoyment from it. It is like his husband knows just when to pull back to make Changmin let out a low sound of frustration, or a howl of anger. But the teenager stays put. Oddly practically tied to his position by his vision in the mirror.

His bottom lip is almost chewed to shreds and his eyes are glazed, and slightly wild.

And then he feels his ass cheeks being parted, and he almost sighs in relief. The fact that he cannot see his husband behind him in the mirror registers a little too late when he feels the first licks against his tight hole.

Changmin’s gasp of shock as he stares at himself is soon replaced by a shaky moan. He tries to wrench himself free, twisting around as best he can to look at his husband, but Yunho has a strong grip of his hips. The man meets his eyes and he lifts his head, licking his lips, the promise of debauchery is so evident in his smirk, Changmin feels his legs tremble.

“See what I see, Min-ah. Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

But Changmin refuses to comply, staring down at his husband’s head, hand gripping the leather of the day bed tightly as Yunho tongue fucks his ass.

Yunho tongues the wet opening, tasting the almond oil he had used earlier, and not caring one bit as he laves the pink pucker. His wife’s body is already open to him, and he knows his brat is being stubborn. He stiffens his tongue, sliding it easily into the clenching opening even as he runs his hand along the underside of Changmin’s belly.

He was right.

So very smooth…and sensitive.

He moans as Changmin jerks, trying to push his hand away. He gives his wife another tight slap along his upper thigh, making the teenager howl beautifully as he forces his tongue deeper, tasting and licking, fucking the impossible teenager with his mouth. His teeth graze at the edges of his wet hole as he laps, sucking and licking at whatever he can get.

But he knows it is not enough.

Chin wet with saliva, and slick with remnants of the oil, he pushes the younger man hard against the head rest as he rummages around for the discarded bottle of oil, even as he drops his nose, nuzzling along the soft sacs, tongue licking and searching, sucking gently at the smooth balls.

Changmin has given up trying to stare at Yunho. His eyes are wild as he gazes at his reflection. His cheeks are ruddy and he is panting as Yunho mercilessly fucks his hole, giving him just enough to keep him teetering and teetering into the promise of boundless pleasure, but not enough to push him into the whirlpool of sensations. Yunho’s tongue is fucking teasing him. His neglected cock is pressed against the head of the day bed and Changmin starts to rock, trying to find some friction to relieve the tension. He is loathe to admit, but Yunho’s hands on his belly send a frission of electricity that is wholly unexpected, shooting up his back. As the man grazes his short fingernails just under his belly button as he licks his balls, careful to avoid touching Changmin’s weeping cock, Changmin wrenches himself away, throwing himself into the corner of the daybed, his chest heaving as he stares wide-eyed at his husband.

The teenager is splayed, one foot planted on the bed, his knee up while the other is stretched out. Yunho picks up the stretched out foot, kissing his wife’s heel, holding tight as Changmin tries to free his leg. He is unsurprised when the other foot comes whipping round, managing to catch it just before it collides with his chest.

“Why are you so violent?”

“Why are you so infuriating?”

Yunho cocks an eyebrow at the teen before moving to sit between his thighs. He reaches out a hand to caress the swelling belly, only to get it smacked painfully away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Changmin, what’s the matter?”

“Just fuck me, old man. Don’t touch me.”

“How the hell am I supposed to fuck you without touching you?”

“You did it at Iwami.” Changmin snaps back. Why is his husband still talking? He is suddenly feeling painfully exposed lying like this, and he tries to turn over.

Unfortunately, his long legs are tangled around Yunho’s waist, his husband staring down at him with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Changmin is feeling vulnerable and he hates the feeling as he sits up, fists flying.

But Yunho is prepared, catching his wife’s wrists, he pushes Changmin back down against the head of the daybed. He can feel the taut belly against his abdomen, and he loves it. He has no idea what has gotten into the teenager, but he is going to find out, fucking bedamned.

“Enough, Min-ah!”

“Minah Minah Minah.” Changmin mocks. “Fucking hell. I almost want to name one of our kids that so you can stop using it on me.”

“Fine. We will. Now tell me what is wrong so I can fix it.” Yunho presses closer, his still-hard cock trying to frot with his wife’s slowly wilting cock. His grip is tight, and he really does not want to hurt Changmin, but the teenager’s random bout of violence is more than likely going to hurt himself rather than Yunho. He leans back slightly and nuzzles against the top of Changmin’s belly, kissing the smooth skin. There are no stretch marks at all, just smooth skin as far as the eye can see.

“Please don’t.”

Changmin’s suffocated whisper causes Yunho to look up. His teenager’s eyes are shimmering, wet, but not filled enough for the tears to spill over and Yunho feels his heart ache.

“What is wrong, Changdola? Tell me, please. Am I hurting you? I will let go if you promise not to try and hit me.” And even as he speaks, he continues kissing around his wife’s belly. His belly button is still an innie, and Yunho dips his tongue into it.

The groan that is pulled from Changmin’s throat is twisted in pained confusion, and Yunho glances up once again at the upset boy.

“Talk to me.”

“I hate this.”

“What?”

“I hate that all I can think of is you calling me a _big_ brat, and it’s just—“ Changmin pulls his hands away from Yunho’s loosened grip and presses the heels of his palms against his eyes. “It’s just fucking stupid. I don’t feel like myself at all. All these changes are happening so fast, I really can’t fucking keep up.”

“So you hate this?” Yunho drags his nails heavily across Changmin’s filled out body, across the top of his belly and down to the side. He can feel Changmin’s cock twitching in response, and he waits to see if his teenager will be honest with him.

“No.”

“Then what is the problem?”

Changmin pulls his hands away from his face and glares defiantly at Yunho.

“Don’t you hate it?”

Now Yunho is truly surprised, and it shows on his face.

“What? I don’t hate anything.”

“Lies.”

“Changmin.” Yunho’s voice is firm, leaning over to tug his wife up into a sitting position. That belly gets in the way, but Yunho does not give a damn as he locks his arms around the sullen teenager. “I have never ever lied to you.”

“You’d lie to me about this to make me feel better.”

“I don’t even know what _this_ is,” comes the exasperated response. Yunho leans forward to kiss his wife’s sweaty brow.

“You said I’m a big brat,” Changmin whispers, staring resolutely at Yunho’s chest.

So Yunho is a little slow, and maybe a tad dense, but he finally catches on, and he chuckles lowly, nuzzling his way down Changmin’s cheek, narrowly avoiding being bitten as the brat snaps his teeth at him.

“Changmin, I have called you a big brat all our married life. Even before that, I’m sure of it. A year ago, two years ago, nothing has changed. You were a big brat then, and you are a big brat now. My big brat. _Nothing has changed._ ”

Changmin frowns, thinking about it, and he realises that what Yunho says is true. He glances up, seeing the affection in the older man’s eyes. “So you didn’t mean—“ he cannot quite bring himself to complete his sentence. Feeling insecure all over again is something he loathes. He can blame the hormones, but in truth, Changmin is just himself not quite comfortable in his own skin. He is still young, and cannot be expected to be all mature about everything. The month apart from his husband has done a number on his feelings of security…or insecurity as the case may be.

“What did I tell you earlier? You weren’t listening were you? I told you to look at yourself in the mirror and see how beautiful you are to me.”

“Your cock was pressed up against me and you expect me to remember your words?” The gnarly teenager is back, warming up to his husband’s hot, yet affectionate gaze.

“And when I told you to see what I see?”

“Your tongue was in my fucking ass. Do you really expect me to be able to think straight?”

Yunho grins and licks his lips, at the younger man’s words. “Want a taste?”

He barely manages to finish his question when Changmin smashes their mouths together. The kiss is almost savage in its intensity, the teenager wanting so desperately to believe nothing has changed, believes his husband’s words.

Teeth clash and clink, but neither care as Changmin wraps his hands around his husband’s neck, his cock trapped between their bodies. He can feel Yunho’s hand caressing the side of his belly, and he no longer tamps down the sparks of desire ratcheting up his back as he whines into his husband’s mouth, pressing closer and trying to get more. His hand is fisted in the other man’s hair as he tries to press them closer together, their tongues licking as they each try to gain the advantage. Changmin has the upper hand, his tongue sweeping the depths of his husband’s mouth as he takes what he wants, but Yunho is giving as good as he gets.

The battle is lost when Yunho cups the swell of his ass, gripping tightly, even as his nails rake up the side of Changmin’s sensitive body, as the teenager gasps, parting his mouth to allow Yunho’s tongue to delve in to taste him thoroughly. The younger man is helpless as he sucks on Yunho’s questing tongue, his body aflame as places that never used to be sensitive, are. His entire body feels like one giant nerve ending, and he moans almost in despair at the loss of his senses as Yunho breaks the kiss, hot mouth trailing down his neck.

“Beautiful baby.”

“Don’t call me baby.” Changmin growls, jerking Yunho’s head back up.

“Baby.” Yunho smirks, as his wife’s eyes flare, as the banked embers behind his eyes burst into flames.

“You have some fucking nerve, old man.” Changmin whispers darkly, pulling Yunho’s head back further as he leans in to nip at the throbbing pulse. He smells and tastes like shaving cream, but Changmin has had worse as he licks at the dip in his husband’s throat. “Lie down. I want to fuck you.”

Yunho grin is decidedly wicked, as he hauls Changmin up into his lap, making the teenager yelp, getting a glancing punch to the shoulder for his efforts.

“You’re in the way, baby.”

“Don’t fucking call me baby I swear to god you’re going to regret it.”

Yunho is strong, strong enough to maneuver his feisty five plus month pregnant wife as he moves to switch places with him, leaning against the sloping headrest of the daybed.

Changmin gives him no help whatsoever, no longer caring if he is too heavy or otherwise, because clearly he isn’t when the man barely even grunts at having to almost carry him. He glares down at the smirking older man, as he rocks his ass backwards the second Yunho lets go of his hips. He sits on Yunho’s thick cock, rocking back and forth lightly as he stares at his husband. He can feel the swollen head against his needy entrance, and the urge to just tilt his hips just so is strong.

Yunho drops the bottle of oil onto his chest, having grabbed it just before laying down. He is content to wait, watching the angry red flush covering his wife’s body. Changmin is already sweating.

The younger man grabs the bottle without a word, pouring a hefty amount into his palm as he reaches back to pull Yunho’s cock from underneath him, fisting is cock languidly, smearing the oil liberally, as he leans down to kiss his husband. The kiss is less savage than their earlier one, but still rough by anyone else’s standards.

Yunho moans into the teenager’s mouth, the expert hand squeezing his throbbing cock is unrelenting in its intensity. The position is slightly awkward, but Changmin knows how to push his husband to the brink too, and push he does.

“Stop!” Yunho gasps out as a deft twist of a wrist, almost makes him come right there. He looks into the hooded gaze of a thoroughly unrepentant wife who does let go.

But Changmin is far from done as he raises himself up on his knees, his oil smeared hand ghosting across his ass, slipping down his crack, grazing the puckered entrance. He teases himself, oddly balanced as he sways on his knees, head back, body thrust forward as he plunges two fingers easily into himself.

Thoroughly unashamed.

Yunho’s hot gaze sweeps up and down the length of his wife’s body, watching as the teenager finger fucks himself. This is the worst torture there is, seeing the gorgeous boy with his head back, the beautiful gasping moans from his slick, parted mouth, so rosy red from their brutal kisses, and having absolutely nothing to do with it. His hand reaches out, touching Changmin’s belly, and the teen jerks, Yunho’s other hand reaches quickly to grasp his hip to steady him, and he is rewarded by a gorgeous smirk, as the boy does not even bother opening his eyes.

He sweeps his hand up and down the slightly distended belly. Changmin really is not as big as he seems to think he is. The tall former supermodel has a very long torso, and the babies have a lot of room to stretch out within him. He is granted, bigger than he was that afternoon of the impromptu strip tease, but it is nothing for the gangly teen to worry about.

If ever.

His awkward baby fawn is gorgeous.

And Yunho loves him very much.

His hand rubs down over his swollen belly once again, before finally touching the teenager’s profusely weeping cock, finally making the boy’s eyelids fly open, a strangled moan in his throat.

“Can I participate now, or do you want to finish yourself off?” Yunho queries a little amusedly.

“It depends.”

“On?”

“If you’re going to call me baby again.”

Yunho chuckles, reaching up to grasp Changmin behind the neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

The kiss is a short lived mashing of lips, but Yunho gets what he wants from it as Changmin rocks his hips backwards again, swiveling his hips to catch the head of Yunho’s cock. The practiced move makes Yunho smile, though it is short lived as Changmin swivels once again, before bearing down hard, Yunho’s hips kissing Changmin’s ass as the teenager impales himself with a hoarse shout.

“Fuckkkkkkk.”

“Min-ah?”

“Shut up, old man.”

“You’re a mouthy little brat.”

Changmin does not even dignify that with an answer, breathing in short pants as his body adjusts to the rather large intrusion. Entry had been far easier than expected, and yet the burn is enough to soothe Changmin’s need to feel every single fucking inch of the older man. He leans forward, lifting up slightly, before rocking back down.

He finds his rhythm quickly, hands placed firmly against Yunho’s shoulders, pinning him as he fucks his husband, riding him hard. His leaking cock is rubbing deliciously between his husband’s firm body and the underside of his belly, giving it so much friction that Changmin is lost in a heady swirl of sensations.

The litany of curses that spill from the teenager’s mouth is music to Yunho’s ears, as he rocks over him. Yunho’s hands are busy, roaming over every inch of skin he can get, scraping and tugging, pinching and teasing. A particularly hard pinch of Changmin’s dusky nipple results in an angry snarl from the younger man as he rears back, away from his husband’s naughty hands.

Finding purchase along the side of the day bed, Changmin sits back on Yunho’s cock, his thigh muscles clenching hard as he leans backwards. His moans are reverberating around the large bathroom, the new angle giving him some relief from coming too soon, his cock no longer being stimulated between their bodies. His eyes pop open briefly, and he is rewarded by his own image staring back at him, body covered in sheen of sweat, bouncing up and down, eyes hazy with lust and clouded in need.

His mouth is parted, and he watches as he licks his lips, a hand reaching up to brush away the hair clinging to his sweaty temple. And even as he watches, another hand comes into view, flicking at his nipple, and his gaze is drawn back down to his husband.

“Beautiful, Changmin-ah…”

Yunho gazes up at the stunning teenager, mesmerised, watching the boy’s cock bounce, as his body does. The new angle accords Yunho with a much better view of his cock pumping in and out of his wife’s body, not to mention being able to plunge deeper into him, and he grunts, a counterpoint to his noisy wife’s hitching moans, near constant litany of expletives and dirty talk.

_”Why is your fucking cock so big?”_

_“Fuck fuck fuck…dear fuck I hate you.”_

_“Oh god, no no no, I love you.”_

_“I love riding your fucking cock.”_

_“Hurts so fucking good you asshole.”_

_“Oh fuck right there…fuck fuck right there.”_

_“Oh yeah, that’s the spot. Mmmmm…”_

_“Oh god, harder. Fuck Yunhoooooo.”_

Changmin’s loud wail as he comes screaming Yunho’s name, fills the bathroom as Yunho fists his wife’s cock expertly, pulling the man’s climax from him, his mouth parted as he aims the hot and heavy spurts of cum at his face.

Warm liquid hits the back of his throat as Changmin’s hot body clutches tightly at his swollen length, and the taste of his wife pushes Yunho’s over the edge as he comes hard, jerking up into his wife’s stiffened body, still wracked with shuddering waves of pleasure. His fist does not stop working, pulling each last precious drop, his mouth lapping and catching what he can. His aim is true, most of it landing in or around his mouth, his wife’s orgasm so explosive that most lands on his tongue or even further back. Yunho’s own body is shaking with his own orgasm, but still he pumps, wanting more of the gorgeous teenager.

“E-e-enough. S-s-stop. Fuck. S-stop.” Changmin cannot even move to swipe at Yunho’s hand at his cock, hoping his husband will listen. His body so undone by the force of his orgasm, he is almost petrified into place, leaning back, holding onto the side of daybed as he pants loudly trying to catch his breath.

Yunho loosens his grip, pinching the tip of the head of Changmin’s cock, catching more drops on his thumb, before bringing it up to his mouth, licking it clean.

“Old man.” Changmin grits out, dropping his chin, staring blearily at Yunho. Something seems to be missing, and when he realises what it is, his brow quirks in confusion. “Where’s my cum?”

In answer, Yunho merely smirks, opening his mouth, and Changmin groans lowly at the sight of the thick coat of what is obviously his cum on Yunho’s tongue.

Not one for the taste of his own cum, Changmin’s actions are inexplicable even to him as his body moves out of its own volition, toppling forward gently as he presses his mouth against his husband’s.

If Yunho is surprised, he does not show it as he allows Changmin to sweep his tongue into his mouth, the heavy thickness of his cum shared between them.

The teenager moans at the cloying taste, wriggling his hips, tongue delving, dueling with his husband, wanting more. He willingly pulls his own tongue back, allowing Yunho to chase it back into his mouth, and he sucks happily on the older man’s tongue, mewling contentedly.

Yunho chuckles as he finally pulls their mouths away. Changmin whines at the loss, nipping like an angry little kitten his husband’s pouty bottom lip. He is absolutely adorable to Yunho who cards his hand through his wife’s sweaty locks.

“When did you become so cute?”

“Fuck off.”

But the curse is without heat, a lazy knee jerk reaction as Changmin snuggles his face against the side of Yunho’s neck, tongue lapping at the sweaty skin of his husband. He cannot seem to get enough.

Yunho lifts his wife’s hips gently, his cock sliding out, making the teenager whine yet again in his ear. He feels sharp teeth on his earlobe as the teenager murmurs his displeasure.

“You ruined the couch.”

“You were asking for the couch to be ruined, putting it in here.”

“I like this couch.”

“I like it too.”

“You can clean it up.”

“Maybe I’ll lick it up…”

“Yunhooooooo,” Changmin moans, pinching his husband’s nipple as the older man chuckles, sweeping a heavy hand up and down the teen’s sweaty back.

They both freeze just then though, as they both feel it.

A kick.

Then a second.

And maybe even a punch or two.

“Oh dear,” Yunho murmurs as Changmin lets out a soft mewl.

“You woke them.”

“We woke them.”

“Fine,” Changmin huffs, as one of his daughters gives him another kick. “We woke them. I think they’re being squashed.”

Yunho immediately shifts, doing his best to scoot over to the edge of the day bed as he turns, cradling his limp wife, stretching the thoroughly sated and apparently boneless man out next to him.

Changmin refuses to let go though, clinging, allowing his body to fall away from Yunho’s just far enough to give his belly room breathe. Their bodies are still touching, but there is no pressure on his belly. His sweaty back is plastered against the length

Yunho turns, curling around the teenager, his hand stroking languidly up and down the boy’s side as he slips his thigh between Changmin’s legs.

Changmin shivers at the touch, tilting his head back slightly to be able to look at his husband. He suddenly feels really bad about going to the appointment without Yunho.

He sighs, knowing this is probably not the best time, but it’s as good a time as any. The longer he delays, the worse it will probably be. He looks down, staring at the pulse throbbing in Yunho’s throat, feeling guilty.

“We don’t need to see the doctor on Monday.”

Yunho’s heart catches at Changmin’s soft words. He can hear the regret in the teenager’s voice, and that is enough for him.

“I know.”

Changmin’s eyes fly up, seeing the understanding in Yunho’s eyes.

“How did you know?”

“I called your doctor yesterday evening.”

“Why?”

“I was worried about you stumbling over everything like the town drunk.”

Changmin winces at the description, still feeling too guilty to even summon the energy to be mad about it.

“She told you?”

“She didn’t. But she said you were like a baby giraffe on ice, and I knew you must have seen her recently.”

“A baby giraffe—“ Changmin sputters indignantly, mentally ready to give his doctor hell the next time he sees her.

Yunho laughs as he presses forward, cutting off the teenager’s protests with a firm kiss.

“She’s right you know. Though you’re more like a newborn fawn to me.”

Changmin rolls his eyes as he slips his arm around Yunho’s waist, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “You and your Bambi fantasies.”

“Blame your eyes.”

“I blame you, old man. You’re the only one who sees it.”

“Why did you go without me?”

Changmin sighs, lifting his hand from Yunho’s waist, circling a dark nipple as he speaks, his eyes downcast. “You seemed so busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Yunho catches Changmin’s hand, pulling it away from his nipple, holding firm as he uses the same hand to tilt the woeful teenager’s chin up to meet his eyes.

“Nothing to do with the fact that we were apart for a month?”

“No.”

Yunho reads truth in the teenager’s eyes.

“I’m never going to be too busy for you.”

“But—“

“Never, Changmin. Nothing has changed. You will always come first.”

A beautiful smile breaks across the teenager’s face, as he sweeps his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Always?”

“Always, little one.”

Changmin’s throaty laughter echoes around the bathroom. Little one? He will let it slide this time since to him in his present state, it is infinitely better than _big brat_.

**Author's Note:**

> This was extremely HARD to write. The images were so fucking clear in my mind that I had to keep pausing to catch my breath and not drown. And then I just couldn't write fast enough to keep up with the images in my mind and it was frustrating the hell out of me. Oh my god was this hard to write... I WAS IN ACTUAL PAIN FROM THE FRUSTRATION OMFG. IT WAS ALL SO VIVID. I didn't do the visual in my head justice, but I couldn't. God, Changmin... He was fucking teasing me. My muse. I hate him sometimes. 
> 
> There is actually a YunJae version of this but if i'm being completely honest, it was always HoMin all the way and they wear it sooooooo much better. I had bickering muses in my head when I wrote this so I decided to write both versions lol but it was Changmin who killed me fucking dead.


End file.
